


Ugly

by DaftFloyd



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Image, F/M, First Time Sex, Hurt and comfort, Jack Makes You Feel Better, Jack Morrison is a Good Man, Love Confession, Reader is 'fat', Self Loathing, You Hate Yourself, first time saying I love you, reader is female, shy reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaftFloyd/pseuds/DaftFloyd
Summary: You don't understand how someone like Jack can love someone like you.Jack just wants to help you feel better.





	Ugly

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this with the intention of writing emotional sex at the end. There is no sex. This isn't finished. I'll probably never finish it. I never finish anything I write.
> 
> This is born from my own self hatred, my own issues with my body, and my own experiences with being called ugly. I basically wrote the reader as myself while trying to keep physical details vague. 
> 
> I've been doing a little better from the time I wrote this and I'm satisfied with it the way it is now so I thought I'd share. I still feel ugly and I'm still alone, untouched, longing desperately to know what it means to be loved by someone. But at least, within some capacity, I have Jack. Maybe it will help someone that feels the same about their own image.

You are disgusting.  
  
There isn't anything about you that isn't.  
  
That's never more apparent then now as you stand before the bathroom floor mirror, your flabby body naked, clean but still as repulsive to you as if you hadn't showered in a month. It isn't just the fat that forms hideously in rolls on your body or your less than attractive face that you find so sickening. It's all of it. It's you.  
  
All this hatred you feel for yourself, all the painful memories, the bottled feelings, culminate into one absolute, irreversible statement.  
  
“I'm so ugly...”  
  
And you really do believe that. You know it to be true. It's been told to you countless times before by peers and by strangers but more lastingly, by people you had once trusted. It must be true if everyone else can see it too.  
  
You are ugly and you are trash and you sure as hell don't deserve what's about to happen to you.  
  
It's a miracle that you got this lucky in the first place. You never imagined that a man as handsome and desirable as Jack could want someone like you. You'd mistaken the flirting for cruelty at first, for the casual joking tone that some people seemed to use when complimenting you. It had taken a long time for you to believe that he was being genuine and even then, you had a hard time trusting that this man – this much older and experienced man – would want to be with you of all people. There must be something wrong with him.  
  
Even with your reluctance to trust him, you had still let him kiss you and eventually, you had decided to give him the chance to do much more. The very thought alone had your stomach thrashing violently like a suffocating pig. You'd never let someone see you naked before, not like this, not when it meant you were going to...  
  
You grabbed the fat at your waist and pinched it, pulling it outward, desperately wishing to pull it from your body. If only it were that simple. It was a constant reminder of the kind of person you were. Someone like you didn't deserve a chiseled god like Jack. The man was perfection and you were... subhuman. Filth. Disgusting pathetic filth.  
  
On the other side of the bathroom door, he was waiting. He'd been sitting on the bed when you left him, already shirtless and half-hard from the quick and sloppy kisses you'd exchanged earlier. He'd seemed so eager to start when you arrived, so enthralled by the idea of having you in his bed, in his arms. He was sweet, too sweet, and it made your heart ache in a painfully pleasant way.  
  
Things had been going fine up until a point but all it took was one deprecating thought to turn your arousal into cold self loathing. The intensity of his kisses, of his hands at your waist, turned you into jellied fear. You were far too self conscious of how you must have looked to him. As his hand slipped under your shirt, you began to panic, scared to let him see you undressed, scared to think that he may be doing this out of pity or charity.  
  
You couldn't meet his eyes when you pulled away. You didn't see the look of confusion and worry on his handsome face as you scurried into the bathroom, meekly apologizing over your shoulder.  
  
“I just need a minute.” You said, closing the door quickly.  
  
That must have been at least ten minutes ago. You weren't sure. It was hard to keep time when you were struggling to muster up the courage to go back out into the bedroom – _his_ bedroom. Where he was waiting for you, to _make love_ to you. It felt so absurd to think of it like that. He didn't love you or at least he'd never said as much.  
  
He probably barely even liked you and you were sure that would change when he finally saw you naked. At least, that was your fear. Somehow, the thought of him pitying you felt even worse.  
  
The sudden knock at the door jumped you out of your thoughts and out of your skin. From the other side, Jack called your name, the sound saccharine and warm. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”  
  
Oh, not that. You couldn't handle it when he called you that, especially in that voice.  
  
“Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I'll be out in a minute.”  
  
A minute wouldn't be long enough for you to be okay with this but it would have to be. Maybe you should just tell him that you didn't want to do this anymore, as much of a lie as that was. You'd been waiting so long for a moment like this, for the moment someone would finally touch you in ways you only dreamed about. It was the fear that kept you from accepting it, fear of rejection, fear of embarrassment, fear of not being worthy enough. That fear was all encompassing, inescapable even.  
  
That dread still held you as you dressed, quickly pulling your casual clothing back on, hiding your shameful form. It was the dread that squeezed your heart and made you hesitate when your hand touched the door knob.  
  
' _Deep breaths.'_  
  
You follow your own instruction and breath once, twice, thrice, and then the handle is turning in your hand.  
  
The moment the door opens, Jack's gaze snaps up to meet yours. His beautiful blue eyes are wide, anxious. There's tension in his pose that ripples through his muscles, shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees. He straightens up, looking ready to jump to his feet as you hesitate in the door way. God help you, he's still half naked.  
  
“Are you okay?” The low warm timber of his voice makes your heart race faster.  
  
You're not sure how to answer that. A shrug is your only response, gaze falling to the floor. It hurts to look at him right now, to see that look on his face. To think that such a troubled expression would be meant for you is ridiculous.  
  
“Hey,” His voice is commanding, demanding your attention without sounding harsh. “Look at me.”  
  
You do as he says, unable to do anything but obey when he uses that tone. Your heart splinters a little more from the sheer intensity behind his eyes. It makes your chest feel tight, painfully tight, and the fear returns. The fear turns to panic as he reached out for you.  
  
“Come here.”  
  
Your feet betray your mind, carrying you to the space directly in front of him, rather than turning and running away like your thoughts were screaming at you to. Jack's big, warm, calloused hand meets your arm when you're within his reach. He runs his palm down your skin, fingers stopping to wrap around yours, his thumb gently rubbing at the bone of your wrist. He looks right at you, his eyes never having left yours.  
  
As you crane your neck to look down at him, you feel your lips tremble. Your heart feels like it's full to bursting, like it's drowning in water as blue and shimmering as those beautiful eyes. Jack is so incredibly beautiful that you can hardly stand it.  
  
He then says those three little words, the only three he need whisper to make you come undone completely.  
  
“Talk to me.”  
  
You can't refuse that voice or those eyes. You can't deny him when he looks at you with such anguish. Jack had a way of knocking down your walls, no matter how hard you tried to fortify them. Since you met him, he'd been doing nothing but chipping away at the pale brick until you were finally here, consenting to him stripping away the last layer of your defenses. He hadn't wormed his way in like so many in the past, but rather had won your affections by tearing down the wall and trying to know the real you, trying to comfort and understand and cherish the person you really were, not the airs you put on for the sake of normalcy.  
  
You could never deny Jack anything he wanted from you. Even if you felt like crying as you chocked the words out. “I'm scared...”  
  
Shock widens his eyes before they narrow, hardening into something undecipherable. His voice is low, barely audible as it rumbles from his chest. “...of me?”  
  
“What? No!” Your voice shakes. “It's not you at all, I'm...!” You can't look at him now, not when you can feel tears stinging your eyes. “I... I just don't understand why you... why someone like you would want to do this with... someone like me...”  
  
Jack looks shocked again but it's more incredulous this time. If you didn't look so serious about it, he would have thought you were joking. “What do you mean? You're...” It's as if his breath catches in his throat and he pauses, breathing his next words with an air of awe. “You're incredible.”  
  
God, this man knows how to twist your heart. It beats painfully as you bite back a scoff, hands balling into fists, the first hot tear rolling down your nose. “I'm really not, Jack. I'm not... I'm... I'm ugly and obnoxious. I'm a disgusting neurotic mess of a person. I really don't deserve this from you, not when you're so... and I'm just...”  
  
“Hey, hey...” That soothingly warm hand reaches up and cups your cheek, wiping away tears as he shushes you softly. “I don't know where you got that idea but you couldn't be further from the truth, sweetheart. You're not obnoxious, you're just fine.” His other hand, the one that had held yours so securely, leaves your grasp to rest on the curves of your waist, fingers gently sinking into the plush fat of your hips. “And _this_ is just fine too.”  
  
You can't help the sob that slips past your lips, heart finally bursting, finally shattering from all these feelings he's giving you. It hurts but the ache is sweet, comforting, almost. There's a part of you that doesn't believe him, that can't believe him, but the overwhelming part of you that does is so much louder and resounding that you can't help but cry. To be accepted and loved by someone like him is all you ever wanted out of life.  
  
The moment you'd sobbed, Jack was pulling you down into his arms, coxing you to rest in his lap as he coddled you and kissed your hair. You practically climbed onto him with little coercion, willingly resting your legs on either side of him as your head nestled beneath his chin, your arms circling that strong broad chest. He was so warm and he smelled so nice. The dusting of snow white hair along his chest and navel was soft against your skin. It was as if he was surrounding you, blanketing you in security and affection.  
  
Jack's arms felt like they could protect you from anything, even yourself.  
  
Having him there was soothing but it didn't stop the crying. You couldn't help it, there was just too much built up. Jack didn't care. He held you all the while, letting you cry against his perfect chest. “It's alright, sweetheart.” He cooed, nuzzling your soft hair. “I'm here for you.”  
  
You cried for what felt like too damn long. You always hated crying, hated the way it made you feel, and to do so in front of Jack no less... You'd be beating yourself up over this for some time to come. Jack didn't need the added weight of your burdens. He was already shouldering the whole world. You didn't want him to see you this way. You felt ashamed and stupid. Not to mention, it was a complete mood killer. So much for the romantic night you'd been dreaming of.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
His voice pulls you back to the here and now. Jack always has a way of keeping you grounded.  
  
“Are you going to be okay?”  
  
That's a tough one to answer. Everything inside of you screams “no”, that you've never been okay, that you could never be okay with this – with him wanting you. Of course you want him, of course it feels good to know he wants you too, but that part of yourself that relentlessly hates you won't let it go. You're not attractive enough for a man like him. Jack didn't mind that, though. He said that it was fine, even, but there was still ice in your stomach.  
  
“I'm fine.” You sigh, face buried against his warmth. Your eyes hurt and there's snot backed up in your nose. You refused to let it run onto him. You don't want him to look at you, not when you're in such a state “Sorry... I know this isn't what you expected when you asked me to come in...”  
  
Jack chuckles and god, there's never been a nicer sound. It rumbles against your cheek, vibrating in his chest. “Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize to me. I want you to feel good.” His hand rubs soothingly against the small of your back. “I just want you to be okay... I'll go as slow as you need me to.”  
  
Your face is turning red now. Well, redder than it was from the crying. You almost can't believe those words, as sincere as they sound. “Why are you so damn nice to me all the time?” Your words come out harsher than you meant but Jack just laughs again, the sound vibrating straight to your soul.  
  
“Well...” The old soldier shifts you in his lap so that he can look down at you, so that he can reach out and brush his knuckles against your face. He looks bashful as he smiles down at you, a blush tinging his cheeks with heat as well. You've never seen such a warm, heartfelt smile from him before and it carries with it, the weight of his next few words. “I guess... it's because I love you.”  
  
Everything within you forgets how to function. Your body has gone completely still in his lap as you helplessly look into those burning blue eyes. You stop breathing for a moment, holding your breath as you try to process the feelings he's just lavished you with.  
  
“No you don't.” You say almost immediately.  
  
“Yes, I do.” Jack retorts, laughing on his words with that smile still ever present. “I think I've loved you from the moment I met you. I know it's... it's probably not the right time to tell you that. I've never been very good at these things. Even now.” He sighs, rough hand cupping your face. “I just thought... maybe it would help right now.”  
  
“Jack...” His name catches in the back of your throat, threatening to turn again into a sob. Your eyes are stinging with tears again when the pressure built at the back of your sinuses becomes too much. “I need to blow my nose.” You sigh and reluctantly slide off of his lap. Jack looks part surprised, part amused at your sudden announcement.  
  
“Don't disappear on me again.” He orders.  
  
“Sir, yes, sir.” You smile at him over your shoulder as you slip back into the bathroom.  
  
This time, you definitely don't hide yourself away. You don't take much time cleaning yourself up. You chance another look at yourself in the mirror and that old fear returns but you fight it down.  
  
As impossible as it seems, Jack really loves you and you love him too. No one has ever treated you as kindly as he does or has ever touched you as gently as he has. As unwise as this has all been, and as much as you feel you don't deserve it, you want to be with him. You want to let him make love to you the way only a man of his experience could.  
  
_'Relax,'_ You tell yourself. _'You can do this. You need this. Everything will be okay.'_  
  
When you come back into the room, Jack has switched positions. He's laying back on the bed, his upper back and neck cradled by the pillows. He looks at you as soon as the door opens, that beautiful smile gracing his lips. He holds his arm out as you approach, silently offering to let you cuddle up beside him, but that's not what you do.  
  
Instead, you crawl onto the bed and back onto his lap, straddling his waist once more and resting your hands on his burly chest. They slowly trail up his muscles, caressing his skin, combing through rough gray hair until they're resting on either side of his face. His big, warm hand reaches up and does the same, caressing your face with a tenderness seldom felt.  
  
Your thumb traces the scar crossing his lips, following the line with your eyes as you go. Jack kisses it, hums with appreciation at the affectionate touch. He leans into your hand with a look of pure contentment.  
  
Your heart is racing in your chest again. It's hard to believe that it ever calmed. The feeling overcoming you is hard to explain, hard to compare to anything you've felt before. It tells you that Jack is the greatest man you've ever known. It tells you that you'd do anything for him, that you want to be with him for the rest of your life. It feels good.  
  
With your hands still cupping his face, you lean forward and press your forehead to his, drinking him in. From where you lay on top of him, you can feel everything.  
  
His chest pushes against yours with each breath, his hard toned body pressing into your supple form. You can feel the electricity in his body, feel it hum with life, feel his heart beat against your chest. His breath ghosts across your chin, his scent thick in your nose. He smells of musk and cologne, a warm cedar scent that mixes with the smell of leather that never seems to leave him. (He always smells like leather when he kisses you.) All of this, added with the warmth radiating from his perfect body, is enough to make you feel absolutely intoxicated.  
  
As Jack rests his other hand on your back, your lips connect, soft and sweet. The following kisses are just as soft, just as sweet. The hand holding your face slips into your hair, cupping your head and holding you close as those gentle pecks turn into one long, deep kiss. With this last sense finally claimed, you find yourself completely enveloped in Jack. Everything culminates into a tremor down your spine that pools in your groin. You need him more than you've ever needed anything in your life.  
  
Your lips part without ever leaving each other. You can still feel his week old stubble scratching your chin as you open your heavy eyes and look back into his. Nothing has ever been so perfect, so beautiful, and you never want this to end. “I love you too.” The belated words come out close to a whisper. “I love you, Jack.”  
  
That old familiar feeling is pressing at your eyes but no actual tears form. Your chest swells bigger the wider Jack's smile grows. He pets your hair, a breathy chuckle passing his lips. “You're too good to me, sweetheart.” Without waiting a beat, Jack leans forward and captures your lips again. This time, he's a little more needy, more earnest. It's impossible not to match his intensity.  
  
That wonderful hand of his slowly makes its way up and down your back, thumb ghosting over your side as it goes. Every time his hand reaches the hem of your shirt, his fingers dip under the line, giving your bare skin a quick pet. That little brush is enough to ignite your skin, making you crave his touch over every inch of you. You're practically falling apart on top of him as it is, you can't even imagine how good it would feel to have him lazily stroking your back.  
  
“Jack,” You mumble against his lips between kisses.  
  
It's a moment before he responds. “Hmm?”  
  
“I just want you to know... I...” The words are thick in your throat and stick for a good moment. It's hard to spit them out when you've kept it all bottled inside for so long. “I may hate myself and that may never change, but... when I'm with you, I feel like it'll be okay. Right now... I'm so incredibly happy.” Your eyes meet the sparkling blue of his and the look in them is indescribable. “You make me happy, Jack.”  
  
“Oh, baby...” The old soldier surges forward and pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in his arms as if to protect you from those poisonous feelings. “I'm so sorry you feel that way about yourself. You have no idea how beautiful you really are.” His lips press to your forehead and you can feel just how badly he wants to help you, you can feel how much he cares in his gentleness. “I'm not the only one who sees it, either. You're such a... genuinely... unbelievably... kind soul...” With each pause, he kisses your skin, lifting your chin to reach your temple, your cheek, your jaw. He sighs, the sound breathy and frustrated. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do... an old dog like me doesn't deserve a sweet girl like you.”  
  
It's all so much to take, so much to process. You've become a slave to these words, to the feeling wrapping its tendrils around your heart. All you can do is whimper his name, that pressing need to cry burning your eyes again.  
  
“ _Jack_...”  
  
He kisses you soft, sweet, brushing your hair back, holding you like you're the only thing that matters in the world. “ _Tell me what you want to do..._ ” His voice is a deep whisper, hot against your skin.  
  
So many possibilities race through your mind that its hard to settle on any one. Everything you've ever wanted to do with someone, be it Jack or otherwise, spin through your head like the rollers of a slot machine. You want all of it at once, terrified that this may be the only opportunity you have to be intimate with with anyone, especially Jack.  
  
It's been a long long time since your first and only deeply disappointing sexual encounter. It was something quick and passionless, done with a man that didn't love you and that didn't make you feel wanted as you'd hoped the act would. Suffice it to say, your first time had left a bitter taste in your mouth that made you reluctant to try again. This, though – this was different. This was _Jack Morrison_ you were with now. He was someone much more experienced and patient than anyone you knew.  
  
You could trust him with this, you knew that to be certain.  
  
“I... I don't know.” Your voice was diminutive, unsure.”There's so much... Jack...” Your soft hands lifted to the sharp shape of his cheeks. “Please...” You weren't even sure what you were asking for until the words came to the tip of your tongue. “Touch me... please...”  
  
A warm smile lit up the man's face once your words reached him. “Of course, sweetheart. Of course I will.”

 


End file.
